Characters in my life Part II - Mr. Bigua

An important aspect of Uruguayan culture is greeting. It is customary to kiss people on the cheek not only when first introduced but also when you encounter friends around town. Unsurprisingly, this gets confusing in ambiguous situations. When you run into someone for 5 minutes do you kiss hello and goodbye? Should I greet my teachers with a kiss, a nod, or a handshake?

One such ambiguous circumstance arose at the gym. I am a member of Club Bigua, a YMCA-like club that offers everything from Italian classes to body pump. It has a large indoor swimming pool, tennis courts, a basketball court, and a workout room full of rickety gym equipment.

One morning, I was riding a rickety bike with Pink blaring on my iPod contemplating why no one in the gym (except myself) seemed to sweating, when I noticed an elderly gentleman going from treadmill to treadmill greeting and chatting with each gym-goer. He was wearing a blue and white track-suit straight from the 80s with Bigua printed on the back. “Dear Lord,” I thought, “certainly Bigua doesn’t have official greeters like Wal-Mart.” I put on my “serious work-out” face and pedaled on.

Mr. Bigua finished up the treadmills and moved on to the bikes, arriving at mine just as I was reaching the hardest part of my workout. Obviously annoyed at the interruption, I turned Pink down as he said, “Next time, please bring a towel,” and pointed to the sign on the wall listing the requirement. Panting and sweating, I nodded, and he moved on.

At Mr. Bigua’s request, I remembered to take a towel every time I went to the gym after that, except of course every time Mr. Bigua was working. On these occasions without fail, he would end the greeting routine with increasingly brusque reminders “No te olvides la toalla!” (Don’t forget a towel).

Yesterday, I headed to Bigua, towel in hand, and Mr. Bigua was nowhere in sight. About halfway thought my workout I felt a firm pat on the back. I turned, and there was Mr. Bigua. “Hola,” he said with a steady smile. I think we are finally friends.

Characters in my life Part I - Blanca

My apartment building doesn’t have a washing machine or dryer, so about once a week I hike up 21 de Septiembre (the main street near where I live) with a pillow-case full of dirty clothes. I stop at Pisces, a tiny laundry mat ,where for 80 pesos ($3), they will wash, dry, and fold a load of clothes for you.

Three good-natured women work in Pisces. Blanca’s my favorite because she counts the prendas (articles of clothing) to determine how many loads there are. I always try to convince her that I have fewer loads than I really do and that my clothes should be a priority. Consequently, the ladies have taken to calling me la llorona (the whiner) and always have a good laugh when I come in.

The Pisces washers do not like their jefa (boss). One afternoon, after Blanca counted out my prendas and determined that I had un lavado y medio (a load and a half), I asked her about her boss. Her answer came out in a whirlwind, “I take two omnibuses to get here. That means I spend eleven hours every day to earn 4000 pesos ($160) a month for me and my daughter. And the jefa, she just comes in, picks up the money, and leaves. We’re going to raise the $1,500 we need to open our own laundry mat because we’re tired of la rallada (short-tempered lady).”

Later that day, I went back to pick up my clean clothes and took along some homemade chocolate chip cookies for my buddies. As Blanca charged me for the wash she had a twinkle in her eye. ‘Un lavado Lorena’ (one load, Laurin) she said smiling like a kid at the 40 peso discount. She was getting revenge against the jefa. Laughing as I headed back down 21 de Septiembre I thought, I'm baking cookies more often.